"If you can keep it..."
“If you can keep it…”
1 Samuel 8
I am going to be honest with you this morning: I am so sick of American politics. Understand, I love the ideal that is America: a nation where there is liberty and justice for all; a land that welcomes the “tired and poor and huddled masses,” a land in which the constitution is upheld, the rule of law is maintained, and the will of the people is honored. This is the land where no one is above the law, where justice is blind, and where everyone has the opportunity to pursue happiness. In practice, America has always fallen short of that ideal but has had moments of brilliance in which we have come close, or at least caught a glimpse of, what it would mean to actually be that nation. From the start, we came together to form a more perfect union. This remains our struggle 225 years later.
Politics brings out the worst in us. Again, understand…I am not anti-government or anti-politicians. Government does things that are incredibly necessary: building roads and bridges; keeping us safe by putting out our fires and by policing our streets; responding locally and nationally to our greatest challenges like natural disasters or poverty or access to healthcare and on and on. Good politicians—people who are public servants—do the hard work of number crunching and policy creation and resource allocation so that on our worst days, we have help. I think our politics make it brutal for our public servants to do their work. Many of them have left that work as a result of attacks on their integrity and the threat of attacks on their families. Still, four years ago, public servants—some professionals and some citizen volunteers—Republicans and Democrats—stood up, often at great personal risk, and defended our constitution.
At the Constitutional Convention in 1789, the story is told, that as Benjamin Franklin emerged from the relentless conversations and compromises that were required to arrive at a constitution which the states would then have a chance to either ratify or refuse, a woman approached. Her name was Elizabeth Willing Powell. She caught Franklin’s eye and asked, “Well, Doctor, what have we got—a republic or a monarchy?” Franklin’s answer was simple and direct: “A republic, if you can keep it.”
In 2020, we came dangerously close to allowing our republic to be thrown into chaos, if not of losing the republic altogether. And, though we kept the republic in tact and the will of the people was honored, our nation was damaged. The election was thoroughly adjudicated in 60 court cases. Recounts took place in many states. Opportunities were presented again and again for those with complaints to present hard evidence and facts. Yet, valid evidence of voter fraud was never found or presented and, rest assured, if it had been found it would have been presented. Nevertheless, 1/3 of Americans still believe that Joe Biden was not legitimately elected. Of course, this belief persists because people with large audiences keep repeating the same totally unfounded claims.
This is what I hate about the current state of American politics. Truth does not matter. Facts do not matter. Science does not matter. Character does not matter. Fairness doesn’t matter. Justice doesn’t matter. What matters is retribution. What matters is winning at all costs. What matters is yelling about our grievances—all the ways we’ve been wronged. What matters is forcing my will on the people around me. If people disagree with me, then I must destroy them.
In this crude political atmosphere, we have lost respect for one another as fellow citizens. We have lost the ability to compromise with those who think differently in order to actually get things done. In truth, we have taken our eye off governing for the best interests of the people and instead have focused on what seems like perpetual fundraising and positioning for the next campaign. Trust and integrity and character and independence, once the glue that held democracy together, have been re-cast as the marks of weakness. Being a bully is what we now look at as being strong.
This is not solely an issue for the Republican Party or the Democratic Party. The most common appeal of either party is to self-interest: “Who is going to take care of you? Who is going to solve your problems for you? Who would you like to have a beer with? Who is going to give you what you want?” “You have a vote to cast. Here’s what I’m going to give you for that vote.” This has always been the vulnerability of our system, that it is based on the foundational question: “What’s in it for me?” The narcissism and individualism of this approach is so foundational that we almost never stop to question it at all. After all, the refrain goes, “Am I better off today than I was four years ago?” It’s all about, “I,” “Me,” and “Mine.”
Of course, it is an easy step from “I, me, and mine” to “us verses them.” I want to feel included. I feel like I haven’t gotten my due. I need someone to blame. Therefore, I have my party and I have the other party whom I hate. The people who are, in fact my fellow citizens are now the “enemy from within,” or “the despicables” to quote both sides. We end up spending so much time fighting one another that it almost doesn’t occur to us that we could actually be fighting, side-by-side, to make the nation just a tiny bit better, just a slightly more perfect union.
Many religious people have joined in this terrible fight by worshiping things which are less than God. We worship the status quo or we worship our party or we worship a single plank in our party’s platform. If you don’t line up with us, then we tell you without hesitation that you are not only un-American but you are, in fact, unfaithful. In truth, whether you are worshiping a conservative leader or position or a progressive leader or position, you are, in fact, simply worshiping an idol. All people are broken and fallible. All positions are, at best, informed by facts and thought through, but always subject to questioning and review. We need to see our leaders as public servants. We need to value their character and integrity as much as we value their position on any one issue. We need to allow them to say things like, “I may be wrong. God knows I’ve been wrong before.” If our leaders can be human then maybe they won’t feel so pressured to act like they are God.
The story throughout the Old Testament is a sad tale of the people worshiping almost everything but God. When Moses is gone a little too long on the mountain top, the people make a golden calf and bow down to it. When Moses gets a bit full of himself and thinks he’s above the law, he keeps something for himself that should have been God’s—he worships himself—and he doesn’t make it to the promised land. In the promised land, when the judges were given power over each tribe, they initially were wise in their judgment, offering fairness and justice to the people. However, over time, power did what power does. Power corrupted good people.
In our text for this morning, the people who just love the notion that they are God’s chosen people make the choice to reject God’s place at the center of their lives. Like human beings ever since, our ancestors in faith want to feel “special” but at the same time, they want to be like everyone else. (Really, if you just take a moment to think about that, it is such an insight into what’s messed up about us human beings: we want to be special and we want to be like everyone else, all at the same time.). Other nations have kings. They want a king, too. The king will solve their problems. The king will keep them safe. The king will take them “off the hook” for taking responsibility for themselves. If they only can have a king, then, and only then, will they get what they really deserve.
Samuel, God’s prophet, tells the people what the king will really do. He’s going to take your sons and your daughters and use them for his own benefit, as soldiers and prostitutes and whatever else he wants. He’s going to take your crops and your land and tax you like crazy. He’s going to do whatever he wants and expect you to worship him while he does. The people hear all this, nod their heads and say to Samuel, “Yup…we want a king.” In fact, Samuel gives them exactly what they deserved: Saul, a king who would slowly become intoxicated with power until he became paranoid and delusional and pretty hopelessly depressed. And Saul would only be the first of the kings across centuries who would not only seize power but be consumed by power, as well.
Here’s the thing. When the adult Jesus waded into the world and loved it, one person at a time, he found a world that still wanted to find a great king, one who would reject Rome, who would be great like King David (but maybe without the Bathsheba part!). Jesus never acted as a king or asked anyone to worship him. He never indicated that the answer to everyone’s problems was political. He didn’t insist that people worship him or worship a book or worship some designated holy place. Instead, he told us that there was a better way to live—by loving God and loving our neighbor (all of our neighbors), by seeking to forgive and by being forgiven, rather than seeking revenge, by being a source of grace rather than by passing judgment. He challenged us to ask not what’s in it for me but how can I help. He insisted that leaders were servants, that he who would be first should go last and that if you were willing to sell your soul to get anything then you were destined to lose your soul.
Our faith is non-partisan, despite what anyone might tell or yell at you. The question is not whether I am better off today but whether the poorest of the poor and the most overlooked and the broken earth on which we stand is better off. If there is anything worth yelling it is not hateful words about enemies but a helpful reminder that, whether we like it or not, we are in this mess together. We’re not here to worship an ideology or a leader. We’re here to bring hope to the hopeless, to help those who are overlooked and ignored, and to trust that if we keep our eyes on that work, God will work through us.
May God be with us all in the week ahead…